Definitions
by Isla Noel
Summary: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, but if you have no sugar- your lemonade is going to suck. This is a story of how all the sugar from my life disappeared and I was left with nothing but that cheap sweetener.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **If for any reason you think I'm J.K. Rowling, that's just sad. I don't own Harry Potter, which sorta sucks...

* * *

**Chapter 1**

I felt like a deer in the headlights.

Beams and sparks were surrounding me, flying through the air like fireworks. One after another, after another…there was another one…and a five in a row shooting up.

My heart was pounding, about to burst out of my chest. I panted frantically. I didn't know where I was…what was going on? I wanted to cry…I couldn't cry…I didn't know how to cry…I didn't know how to move…I was bound to one spot.

_Daisies and…white shingles._

Green, blue, red…

_Trees. Lots of them._

_A little window._

Blue, green, orange…

_Photos…thousands_

Green, red, orange…blue..

"Lori!" Every nerve in my body felt static and I jerked my body. The voice was of a young man. "Run…get out of here!" he panted.

I wanted to run to him- to grab him out of the fireworks. I couldn't. What was going on?

Blood started rushing back into my brain. Realization was striking, as my mind grasped the scene in front of me.

People, just people…and light, all mixed together.

"Lori! Go!" Alex yelled another ear-splitting shout.

Branches and leaves whipped me in the face, cutting my arms and legs. My vision was blurry. All of the feeling was gone. All I wanted was to run as fast and as far. I did not care where I would end up.

I dropped down into the carpet of crunchy leaves. Curling my legs up to my chest, I covered my head and cried like I've never cried before.

_I wanna go home…I wanna go home…_

Tears were cold on my cheeks as the night wind blew on them and rustled the forest in a whisper.

"Daddy…please," I prayed, squeezing my eyes shut. "Daddy, come find me. Please, dad…daddy…find me, please…oh my God." I burst into hysterics, trying to cover them up with my sleeve. My pulse was racing and my panting would not calm down.

I felt a shake, and then a harder one after I did not look up.

"Come on. Get up." It was a deep, concerned voice, but not recognizable to me. I was hoisted up onto my feet. The stranger put my arm around his broad shoulders and walked me a few steps.

"Oh, for God's sake, Chester. Can you imagine what she is going through right now? I'm surprised she can even stand, and you're treating her as if she can sit on a broomstick and circle twice around the moon!" A woman spoke. "Alright, let's get on with it."

My body felt as if it was being turned inside out. My stomach dropped and popping was heard in my ears. I wanted to throw up, but my brain reacted before my gag reflexes, and everything spinned, until I could see nothing at all.

* * *

"There you are, dear."

A warm liquid was poured carefully into my mouth. It was slimy, like a snake, as it slid down my throat and had a revolting smell and taste of metal. I blinked a few times, seeing double for a moment. An elderly woman in white robes and cap smiled at me as she helped me sit up.

"Where am I?" I had a giant headache and some of my words were slurred.

"You're at St. Mungo's. Don't worry, you are alright." The nurse answered. "Just a little Disapparation mishap, that's all." She frowned- an unusual expression on her gentle face. "The Aurors are certainly bonkers these days- letting a mere child Side-Apparate."

I raised my torso up a bit more. "I'm not a child. I just turned thirteen!"

The nurse rolled her eyes, turned on her heel, and walked off with her nose in the air. Well, that just completely changed my opinion of her. I bunched up my blanket with my fists and sat there staring at the wall in front of me. I let go after a minute or two.

_This is ridiculous._

Really, I've had the most nerve-wracking experience last night and here I was complaining about how someone called me a child. Remembering yesterday, I started panting again. I was lost with no chance of my dad ever finding me.

_Oh my God, Lori! That's even more ridiculous. The hospital probably owled dad and he was here all night, just waiting for you to wake up. Yeah…that's it._

Alex.

I needed to see him to know that he was alright. I wanted to apologize for how I left him unprotected and all alone. He saved me and I could never repay him. Ever.

There was a light knock on the door and a pair of people walked into the room. It was a man and a woman who looked as if they had just graduated from Hogwarts. The young man was muscular with messy sandy hair and the young lady was tall, thin, with long black tresses.

"Hi, hi!" The girl walked over to my bed and sat at my feet. "How are you feeling?"

"Uhh…I'm fine…thanks." I suspiciously answered. Maybe they just confused me with someone else. "Are you in the right room?"

The brunette started giggling. "Well, of course. You're Lorraine Wittler, right?"

I interrupted her before she could say more, "It's just Lori."

"Oh, okay, Lori…well, I'm Dylan Ottwell and he's…"

"Dylan, I can talk for myself." The young man snapped. He reached out and shook my hand. With his firm grip, I could feel his rugged attitude and every single callus. "Chester Dallas. Nice to meet you."

I nodded, trying to keep from grinning like an idiot, but obviously failing. He was unbelievably cute, but just a tad bit too old. Dang it.

"Umm…why are you here?" I asked.

Dylan answered, already getting on my nerves with her overly optimistic personality. "You don't remember? Chester and I rescued you. There was a Death Eater attack on the Tulashire Woods."

"Wrangling in giants and werewolves, we suppose, or drinking unicorn blood…those sick, sick people." Chester bluntly stated, snapping his fingers to magically light a cigarette. Dylan glared at him. "What?" He raised his shoulders.

"That nurse is going to gut you."

The young man waved his hand in a dismissing manner. "Ehh…guess we'll just have to make sure she doesn't find out." He winked, leaving me blushing. I was so amused by flirty boys, it was almost illegal.

"Anyways," Dylan continued, "We Apparated into the forest, but they were already gone, and, strangely, we heard someone crying, who was actually you!"

Questions were hitting the sides of my skull. My head feeling like it was going to explode. Many endings could follow this new information of a fearful climax. Choosing not to believe the worst one, I whispered, "Where's Alex?"

The two Aurors exchanged a confused look before setting their eyes back on me.

"Alex…you know…tall, brown hair, gigantic feet…we look so much alike, it's insane." I choked. "He's my brother."

Chester dragged on his fag, obviously trying to keep the silence from becoming awkward, which it soon was. Dylan was staring at the floor.

I was so annoyed with them. One moment, they are telling me every detail of what is completely irrelevant, but refuse to let me in on the most important information for me. Where is my brother? I felt beads of sweat building underneath my heavy, brown locks. My hospital gown was sticking to my body and once again I wanted to cry.

"Do you know?" I shouted. The young brunette looked at me with sad gray eyes. "Tell me!" Tears were rolling uncontrollably and I once again grabbed my sheets to release my pain. I whispered, "Is he _dead_?" Those three words were rotten on my tongue, stinging my nose and squeezing more waterworks from my eyes. The room felt hot and my throat was raspy and dry.

Dylan messed with a piece of her hair.

"That's highly likely." Chester quietly said. I released my grasp on the blanket and fell back into my pillow. So much for me appreciating honesty. "I think we should go, Dyl."

I refused to hear whatever came afterwards. I shut my eyes. It was strange not to cry right now, but for the last two days, I think I've used up all my tears.

Nope, they were coming again.

I rolled over on my stomach and bawled into my pillow.

_What's going to happen tomorrow? What am I going to do?_

My mind was racing and once again I saw those flashing lights and felt the worry and confusion. My heart pounded. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't find a voice.

Blue, red, green…

This was not one of my expected endings.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: ** If for any reason you think I'm J.K. Rowling, that's just sad. I don't own Harry Potter, which sorta sucks...

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"All set?" My dad asked as I tied my sneaker. I nodded. He came yesterday and stayed all night by my side as the nurses treated my scrapes and cuts. When I saw him I couldn't have been happier, thinking that the house was attacked by Death Eaters. He brought me the first clothes he saw on top of my dresser, so needless to say- my outfit today would not have been my first choice.

Dad checked me out of St. Mungo's and we started walking in silence. He was my best friend and I was his pal, but today his presence was awkward. Maybe, it was because Alex wasn't with us.

"You know, Lori. I've always wanted you to learn Apparition from me and not some nineteen-year-old who calls himself an Auror." Dad smiled.

How could he smile at a time like this? It's almost as if I would lose control of myself and scream: You just lost your son!

"Don't worry, daddy. I don't think I'll be Apparating any time soon. It's not like I learned anything from Chester…except that it gives you massive headaches."

"So, his name is Chester, huh?" I swear he was still a teenager on the inside, despite his graying black hair and crow's feet. I rolled my eyes and gently punched him in the arm. "Hey! Oh, look! Let's go get some ice-cream."

Dad pointed ahead at a little shop, Jack and Arnold.

"Umm…no…I'm good." I said, wrapping my hoodie around me tighter. My dad shrugged, wide-eyed, and hugged my shoulders as we walked to the bus stop, once again in silence.

* * *

Our little yellow house with white shingles was a lonely building, isolated by the woods serving as the backyard. The woods were how Alex and I used to spend summers when we were both at Hogwarts. The inside walls were all the same color of beige, so that they didn't take the attention away from Dad's many paintings. The furniture was plain, but always covered with a colorful throw or a creamy lace tablecloth. _A house is a representation of the soul. _My artistic dad would always buy some fancy bobs, like metal signs and cuckoo-clocks and I loved coming home and seeing his new prized possessions.

I went upstairs. The door to Alex's room was slightly ajar. I wanted to walk in there so badly and see him lying on his bed throwing and catching the Golden Snitch. My hand reached for the doorknob and without thinking, I opened the door completely.

"Where were you guys?" Alex was sitting on the floor with notebooks spread out in front of him.

"Uhhh…" I began. This was impossible. "Dad and I just got back from St. Mungo's."

He raised an eyebrow. "What'd you do to yourself now?" I knew he was trying hard not to laugh. It was so like him to make fun of my problems.

"The Death Eater attack. You don't remember?"

"Nooo…this is a Muggle town, Lori. Death Eaters don't come here."

This was ridiculous. How could he not believe me?

"Alex, you saved me! I had to run through the Tulashire Forest- look at my arms."

My brother shook his head and we just sat there looking at each other- he at me as if I was crazy, and I at him as in he was getting on my nerves.

"Lori! Who are you talking to?" My dad walked into Alex's room.

I turned around. "Alex." But when I moved back to face him, he wasn't there. "He was right here! I swear!"

"Lori, this isn't funny." My dad's voice was strict and disappointed.

"Do you see me laughing, Dad?" I yelled. I felt dirty and awful for blowing up on my dad. It was not his fault I was completely mental. My mind knew that I didn't see Alex for real, but my eyes were trying to convince me otherwise. "I'm sorry, daddy." I started tearing up. I had never acted like a child, especially not with him. I wanted people to think of me as grown-up and mature, but I couldn't stop wallowing.

My dad sat down next to me. "It's not your fault."

"Partially…Alex saved me! He told me to run."

Dad shrugged.

"Why are you so emotion-less, dad? It's like you don't care that your son is missing."

"I care," he stated, gazing off into the window and the woodland scenery. The scenery that changed so much in so little time. "I just knew this would happen. Everybody seems to leave me anyway."

I put my head on his shoulder. "I'll never leave you, dad."

He looked down at me. "I will never leave you, pal."

* * *

Everyone left us.

I knew why, but it pained too much to admit it out loud.

I rummaged through my closet to find a box, hidden in the back behind my winter robes. It was very heavy, so I dragged it out and crossed my legs as I sat by it. Blowing off some of the dust, I opened the box.

Thousands of wrinkled photos were piled up to the top. On every one a little memory- a little piece of my life that I had never experienced. I played with the frayed yellowing corner of the first Muggle photograph.

_Clara and Gregg, June 1955_

A barely-eighteen year-old girl was hugging the neck of a young man as he gave her a piggy-back ride. Her hair was long, blonde, and very curly- as if it was a cloud of white fluff. His was wavy and black. Their faces were smiling and their eyes were ignited with happiness- as in love as two soul mates could be. I looked at the picture for a while longer and then set it aside.

_What would she be like if we got to know each other?_

Since I was eight years old, I never got tired of looking at these photos. It was soothing- like an ancient and sacred remedy passed on for many years. But every single scene and every single face tore me down as if saying that I do not have the right to even glance at them.

After many pictures of the Clara and Gregg, came ultrasounds of a little baby.

_Alex._

I smiled as I traced his tiny feet, curled up and tucked into the chest. Then, that little worm turned into a dark haired boy with long eyelashes as he rested in his mother's arms. He was the perfect love child- the kind any two nineteen year-olds would want. Alex was their dream. So far, the only dream that came true for them.

I dug out all the pictures until I reached the middle, examining every one carefully. They were blurry wizard photographs taken from far away. The young woman was singing on stage surrounded by an excited band arousing the pleased crowd. Clara was happy. There was no ring on her finger- just a man and their son who loved her. The same as five years ago, her eyes were a light brown, like melted chocolate.

In the same year that all of Clara's dreams were coming true, a mistake happened.

_Me._

I was not supposed to be born. I was unwanted. She did not want more than one child, thinking that being a mother of two would get in the way of her singing career. She was already losing her voice after she had Alex. She was young and wanted to be free. Gregg asked Clara to marry him after I was born to make a stable family. He told her about his gift of magic, her being a cynical Muggle. She was afraid- freaked out- so Clara packed all of her bags and left, leaving a young twenty-five year-old Gregg alone, heartbroken, and with two kids to raise.

And so from that point until the very bottom of the box, every photograph was magical.

Alex riding his first broomstick.

His very first wand.

The first time he was on Platform 9 ¾.

My older brother was such a peculiar boy. He didn't bother brushing his hair and would lose anything and everything. Last week, he was still the same little boy- smiling and having fun in the woods. Of course, now he had power…was it enough power to survive, though?

I stared at the last picture on the bottom.

Gregg was tossing me up in the air as I pretended to fly.

_Daddy…_

_Why does everything have to be my fault?_

For once in my life, I wish someone else was blamed. I was constantly suffering inside from all the pain I had caused without my knowledge. Everything was an accident. According to Clara, I was an accident.

_Dad is the only one who loves me._

I was tearing up and panting slightly, slowly turning to hysterics. I picked up the very first picture of the two eighteen year-olds, and ripped it in half, dividing Clara from Gregg. Pure bitterness was on my tongue. I hated her. She left me. She held a grudge against a baby. She was a useless Muggle and I was revolted with her. Every time I looked in the mirror, I would see her. Some part of me or another was always her…my nose…my lips…

_I would never leave the ones I love._

_You don't even deserve him._

I stuffed Clara back into the box and placed my dad's youth on my desk.

_He stood by me and you were never there…_

_Thanks a lot…mom._


End file.
